Thought I’d give myself a bit of a laugh this morning by stepping on the scales for the first time in a few weeks.
Probably not the best choice of day for a weigh-in, admittedly.
I heard the old man in the bathroom first, as he tiptoed on and off the scales several times, discarding every stitch of clothing in between, and then shouting in disbelief, ‘FUCK!’
At which point I knew it was going to be bad.
We have this kind of competition about weight between us. We get this sick sense of satisfaction when the other gains weight; a bit like the reverse of ‘when one of your friends succeeds, a part of you dies’ (Gore Vidal).
Although the Ferraro Rocher bunny might actually have been worth it. (It was made from that outer shell that the balls are made from that you normally bite off gently to reserve the cocoon of melted chocolate and nut inside).
It’s not like I hadn’t done the mathematical calculation before Easter. I’m sure I read about a new chocolate law somewhere that stated that if you only eat chocolate, drink lots of wine fluid and go for a jog each day, you will maintain your weight.
Although that might have been a dream.
And then there’s the increasing evidence that a lot of that food that we’ve been brainwashed into believing is ‘healthy’, is in fact made up of armies of vengeful, camouflaged calories.
Did you know that avocados, nuts and fruit are major culprits in calorie espionage, on one mission, which is to reach your muffin top or the top of your thighs?
But it has been proven that chocolate has many health benefits, too. It can reduce cholesterol, blood pressure, memory decline, abject misery and even the risk of a stroke.
One day it may even be able TO HELP MEN THINK.
But my middle-aged conundrum remains unchanged.
To diet or not to diet, that is the question?
Do I succumb to a lifetime of denial and dullness in an attempt to maintain my recently reduced muffin top, even though there is absolutely no guarantee that I will live longer or be happy EVER again?
Or do I do the WTF ‘chocolate diet’, mix it up with some fermented grapes and enjoy whatever fabulous number of years I have left?